


Day Five - Kissing

by orphan_account



Series: 30 Day OTP Challenge [5]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1866084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	Day Five - Kissing

Continued from Day Four – On a Date:

 

Bond didn’t need much convincing to decide that he could, quite happily, kiss Q forever.

The evening had started quite awkwardly. He knocked on Q’s door at seven sharp, and his breath was taken away with the sight of his Quartermaster dressed in a classy black suit. Surely Bond had imagined Q’s eyes drifting down Bond’s own choice in clothes. He was going on a date with Moneypenny. Of course he wouldn’t be interested.

At least, not yet.

Bond had spent the afternoon arguing with himself. Part of him believed that Moneypenny would be better for Q. She had a stable, non-destructive job that almost guaranteed her retirement. She was quick and funny, and if she died, Q wouldn’t have to oversee it. But a louder, more forceful part of him fought against this train of thought, rethinking every conversation, every flirtation that had occurred between him and Q and Bond knew that it was nothing else. Friends just didn’t act that way. By the time he was at Q’s house, he’d made up his mind. He might be a step behind Eve, but he would win Q over by the end of the night.

Q was following a similar train of thought. Bond always looked dashing in a suit, how many times had he supervised missions where he could spend hours comfortably staring at Bond’s ass, shaped by fabric that probably cost the same as his university degrees? But there was something special when he knew that Bond was dressing up for him this time. For his eyes only. Because, even though Moneypenny could match Bond shot for shot (almost), and probably hit for hit, he and Bond went at each other mind to mind, and there wasn’t a stronger base to a relationship than that. Simply, he adored Bond and treasured their time together, and as good a friend as Eve was, by the end of the night, Bond certainly wouldn’t have a date with her next Wednesday.

Q stepped out of the door of his apartment and into Bond’s personal space, brushing his arm against Bond’s, his eyes smouldering.

“I don’t think I’ve seen that suit before, Bond.”

“James. And it’s new.”

“Well, I’m impressed, James.”

With the little distance between them Q could all-too easily see Bond’s eyes darken when he said his name. Q leaned forward ever so slightly, bringing their faces impossibly close before carrying through the motion with his body and stepped past Bond, who, for once in his life, looked surprised. He was so used to being the seducer, the instigator, he’d almost forgotten what it was like to have someone tease and tempt him. He rather liked it.

He followed Q back through the corridor and into the lift, where they easily struck up a conversation about the newest earpiece-prototype, which Q was hoping to be waterproof. By the time they got to the restaurant, Q had brushed against Bond a few times and Bond decided that the next move needed to be made by him. The waiter took them to their table – when Bond booked he’d requested his favourite one in the corner and out of the way of the crowd – and Bond drew Q’s chair out for him, resting his hand against Q’s neck for a moment as he sat down. He smiled as he took his seat opposite him. The Quartermaster’s pulse was far too quick for the short walk up the stairs.

Phenomenal entrees were followed by indescribably good mains and they both talked nonstop, revelling in the chance to speak without being overheard by someone through the earpiece. When Q placed his cutlery neatly together, Bond waved for the cheque.

“Aren’t I allowed to have dessert, James?” Q said, raising an eyebrow.

“I rather thought that we’d find dessert after the performance. I wouldn’t want us to be in a rush.”

Bond noticed that when Q smiled his eyes lit up.

“Of course. If it’s anything like this meal, it needs to be savoured.”

 

***

 

When they reached the Albert Hall, an usher showed them their seats, a box on the second story that not only gave them one of the best views of the stage, but complete privacy.   
Q was, undoubtedly, impressed.

“Should I even ask how you got these tickets, James?”

Bond looked at him and grinned.

“I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you.”

The curtains were soon raised and the greatest love story, the greatest tragedy began. From the corner of his eye, Bond could see Q mouthing the words, a moment before the actors spoke them. It was endearing, and he yearned to hear Q’s posh tenor whisper things in his ear, Romeo or otherwise.

Intermission passed smoothly and as the final bows happened on stage, Bond reached over and took one of Q’s slender hands in his own. Q looked at him sharply, but didn’t pull away. But when the lights turned on, he gently extracted his hand from Bond’s and stood up, ignoring Bond’s offer to put his coat on for him. He turned to step out of the booth, when Bond caught his hand again, pulling him back around to face him.

“Q-”

“No, I’m sorry James. I can’t.”

Bond looked at him, shocked. The whole evening had progressed towards this moment and he couldn’t even get the words out. Q filled the silence.

“It’s not fair on Eve, and it’s not fair on me.”

Bond dropped Q’s hand and took a step back.

“Give me a chance, Q. Please, just a chance.”

“And is that what you said to her?”

Bond opened his mouth to talk, but Q ignored him.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this, James? You finally came back from a mission and organised this amazing, perfect evening together and I’ve loved it, but I can’t stop asking myself why this feels so special, if you’re going to do the exact same thing with her on Wednesday? I’ve had an amazing time, and I thank you, but it can’t go any further than this. And even this is probably too far.”

Only one thought was registering with Bond.

“I’m sorry, I’m doing what with Eve on Wednesday?”

Q looked at him, suddenly unsure.

“She… told me this afternoon that you and her were going on a date on Wednesday.”

To Q’s utmost surprise, Bond laughed, reaching forward to take his hand again.

“I’ll get her for this. She told me this afternoon that you two were going out!”

Bond continued laughing as Q’s face changed from confusion, to understanding, and his gaze slowly fixed on Bond’s hand in his own. He squeezed it, as if experimenting something. Bond pulled him forward and they were lined up, chests almost touching, and Bond slowly released Q’s hand, putting one arm around Q’s waist and the other on his cheek. They locked eyes.

“Since Skyfall, I haven’t wanted anyone else.”

It was an assurance, and a promise, and it was all Q needed to hear. He closed the gap between them and Bond immediately started learning what kind of kisser Q really was.

The kiss began almost messily, perfect, but too needy for it to be finessed. They snogged until the ushers came and politely asked them to leave. As soon as they were outside Q took Bond’s hand and briskly walked down the street, almost tugging Bond along behind him. As soon as they were out of the main crowds Q pulled Bond into an empty alleyway and kissed him against a wall, slowly, gently opening Bond’s lips and exploring his mouth with his tongue. Too soon, Bond pulled away to breathe, but Q’s lips never stopped touching Bond’s skin, travelling underneath his jaw, and along his neck, until he licked at the shell of Bond’s ear and gently bit his earlobe. Bond gasped as he felt Q’s teeth, and gripped Q’s sides tighter, turning them quickly so Q’s back was on the wall, and swiftly took over the kiss. He opened Q’s jacket and top button with one hand, pocketing the bowtie, and kissed his way down that long neck, returning Q’s bite with one of his own, over the skin of Q’s collarbone. He felt Q arch against him and Bond heard his own name tear from Q’s kiss-red lips.

Bond pulled them back into the street and hailed a cab, and Q gave the driver his address. Q pointedly turned to face the window and crossed his legs as soon as they sat down, so Bond took Q’s hand again and spent the drive worshipping it, sucking at every fingertip, running his tongue between the digits, and pressing little bites to the palms. By the time the cab slowed down Q was biting his lip and swallowing hard. Bond payed and they rushed inside and up the stairs. Q wrenched the door open and whirled to face the agent crossing his threshold, loving the sight of James Bond coming into his home.

***

 

“You never told me,” Bond murmured against his tousled hair, hours and hours later. They were in Q’s bed, the Quartermaster curled into him, the warmth of the smaller body a constant reminder of exactly how they had dessert.

“Never told you what?”

“What a good kisser you are.”

Q smiled as his eyes fluttered closed.

“Well, it’s rude to brag.”

 

To be continued…


End file.
